Tag Archives: Rain
Windows in the rain
Clickety-click clickety-click clickety-click. A six-carriage train, like a long yellow caterpillar, glides through the distant gorse, appears briefly, then disappears into the trees. We’re sitting on top of a big dune here, hence the stands of golden gorse and pine … Continue reading
In which bravery is rewarded with a carrot, but not a pear
It rained in the night. What is it about us? This is August, the southern hemisphere’s winter, the dry season. It seems wherever we venture in the Northern Province we act as rain-bringers. Last time it was at a rock … Continue reading
A necklace, a paperclip, some rather unwelcome fireworks
Breakfast. Our last cup of tea made with well water. It tastes as if chrysanthemums have died in it. But it’s not as bad as that fly. The men looked after us well and seem sad we’re leaving early. But … Continue reading
Rain, leaks and onions
The old Land Rover has old headlights. They’re not much use when you’re lost on a floodplain in the dark. Then you need floodlights, ha ha. I don’t know why I said that. I’m far too scared to find it … Continue reading
Doo doo doo doo doodloo doo doo. . . [Thinking, just thinking, in the rain…]
It’s a dramatic change, day for night. It happens so slowly, but somehow you always miss that critical point where light becomes dark. One minute the sun’s merely coy, hiding behind the dove grey clouds, the next minute – pfffft … Continue reading